Sanguine Cage
by Sin Piedad
Summary: While Inoue Orihime is held prisoner in Las Noches, Aizen decides to take matters into his own hands. He resolves to make her become the traitor Soul Society believes her to be by any means possible. Within her Sanguine Cage, Orihime will be no more.
1. Loneliness

Disclaimer: I do not and will probably never own Bleach unless I become ridiculously lucky...

**" Therefore, let me inform you.......all dreams are to be thrown away" **

**1. Loneliness**

The door remained locked. Periodically, a small section of the door slid upward to reveal what appeared to be a food trolley with the usual bread, soup, and water but no one ever entered her room. After more than three meals without an appearance from Ulquiorra or even Menoly and Loly, she realized that they weren't coming back. In the beginning, Orihime called out when her meal came, but there was never an answer and after the second time she tried, the opening shut before she could retrieve her meal. She took the hint.

After nine trolleys, she became desperate. Her next decision was to refuse meals. After all, Ulquiorra had told her that if she didn't eat, she would be force fed and she found herself hoping he would appear. So when the trolley came, she drank the water but left the food in its place. She lasted 12 meals before she recognized the fact that no one cared. It tasted like shame.

In the long space between meals, she cried.

Orihime never thought she would _long_ for the presence of her enemies, but after what seemed to be long, isolated months alone in a pure white room, she couldn't help herself. She spoke to her Shun Shun Rikka but it was a cold comfort. After all, just how long can you spend talking to yourself?

White walls. White. Sterile. Pure. Nothing.

The way to fix this seemed perfectly logical to Orihime. The next time her food was delivered, she took her (_whitesterilewhite_) plate, proceeded to scrape the food back into the trolley with her pale hands (_amiwhitetoo?willifadeaway?)_and calmly smashed it to pieces against the wall. It was only logic that informed her of a perfectly reasonable place to find some color. It was only rational for her to take the largest sliver of her broken plate and slide it down her arm. In the end, when her _redredblood_ spilled from her arm to stain the _toowhitesowhitewhitewhite_ floor, it was only reasonable for her to feel _happyjoyfulecstatic _because of the new decoration_colorcolorcolorcolor _for her cell. She smiled blissfully even as Ayame and Shun'o covered her arm and healed the jagged wound.

Who was this boy she dreamt of? Had she been waiting for him? This boy with his brilliant _tootoobright_ life shining through his soul would not come for her...after all...she had no color of her own. All the color she had was inside of her. _deepdarkbloodalwaysblood. _Why come for her...when she had become so color_life_less. She didn't need him. All she needed was _deepredtaintedredblood._

Her door slid open as she lay on the couch staring dreamily at the deep brown_redBLOOD!_ stain on her pure white floor. He _tappedtappedtapped _ walked to where she lay on then couch and stood over her with a pleasant smile.

She slowly tore her eyes from the floor to meet his brown_notbrownredredredasdriedblood_ eyes as he offered a pale_needscolorneedsblood_ hand to lift her to her feet.

"Are you ready, my dear?"

Inoue Orihime did not hesitate as she lifted her own deathly white hand to his. She died as she walked out of her room_cellprison_ after the _taptaptap_ steps of Aizen Sousuke.


	2. Aging

_Disclaimer: I do not and never will own Bleach. That honor belongs to the great Tite Kubo._

_**Author's note: I have the real one at the bottom if anyone feels like reading it.**  
_

"**Don't be afraid when you are deceived for the world is already full of deception. ****"**

**2. Aging**

Orihime glanced up as she heard someone open her door. As had become the usual, Ulquiorra walked in silently and met her questioning gaze stoically.

"You are to be moved to a different room by the order of Aizen-sama" Ulquiorra informed her curtly as he stood by the door of her austere white room and continued to gazed at her impassively.

Orihime swallowed hard, wondering what Aizen wanted from her this time as she stood and hesitantly walked to where Ulquiorra waited. Even as Orihime took her first hesitant steps, Ulquiorra turned and, slipping his hands into the pockets sown into his uniform, walked calmly down the hall. At first, Orihime had tried to count the turns in case she needed a place to hide, but soon enough the halls seemed to blur into each other and she gave up. When she honestly thought she couldn't go any further, Ulquiorra stopped in front of the door that looked like every other door she had seen during her forced stay in Las Noches.

"This room was created especially for you, Inoue-sama." At her new title, Orihime couldn't stop the widening of her eyes and the tenseness that pervaded her body. "I will return to escort you to Aizen-sama." With that said, he stepped out of her new room, closing the door behind him. As usual, there was no doorknob on the inside leaving Orihime once again trapped within an enclosed room.

For the life of her, Orihime couldn't quite understand what Aizen intended, so she busied herself with examining her new quarters. It was not only larger than her old cell, luxury also radiated from every corner. From the attached marble bathroom to the gorgeous arrangements of pure white Lilies-of-the-Valley that adorned every flat surface of her room,it also screamed opulence of the highest class. An enormous four-poster bed with what seemed to be silk sheets and down feather pillows that sank as she slowly took a seat on top of it. Unlike her old room, there was also a window that offered a surprisingly beautiful glimpse into the desert sands of Hueco Mundo.

Finally, having examined her new room throughly, she could no longer put off thinking of Aizen's plans. Between the luxurious new room as well as her new form of address...Orihime could only deduce that she was either no longer a threat...or that Aizen planned to sway her to his side._ If he thinks that a new room will make me betray my nakama..._Orihime couldn't help but narrow her eyes in anger._ Well, he has another thing coming._ Despite the ferocity of her feelings which even now burned deep inside of her, she couldn't help but feel way out of her depth.

"Maybe," Orihime thought out loud. "Maybe he wan--" The opening of her locked door cut off her train of thought rather abruptly.

"Aizen-sama requests your presence." Once again, Ulquiorra stood in her doorway and waited patiently for her to follow him out of her new room. By this point, Orihime was more than a little worried. This time, their path crossed with the paths of the wandering Arrancar and Orihime couldn't help but tense even more as whispers followed them all the way to a set of large double doors where Aizen undoubtedly waited.

Orihime couldn't stop the slight trembling of her body as she stood before a small round table adorned with carved lilies running down the deep black legs. She kept her eyes on the delicately carved vines intertwining with the lilies even as she heard what could only be Aizen moving ever closer. Her heart began to pound and when a surprisingly warm hand touched her chin and gently tilted her head upwards, she forced herself to calm down.

It wasn't a surprise to learn that Aizen had eyes of blood. Dried blood that wouldn't get off, no matter how hard you scrubbed. He was staining her, she thought dimly, with his gaze.

"I don't suppose," Aizen murmured, his breath hot and moist on her cheek, "That you are ready to cooperate?"

Even as she shuddered in disgust, she yanked her chin out of his hands and took a step back, keeping a wary eye on his movements.

Aizen chuckled softly but let her have her space. He continued to gaze at her calmly until she couldn't take it anymore.

"Why was I summoned?" Orihime was surprised when she realized the soft and timid voice had come from her. When had she changed? What had he done to her?

He was smiling at her. She had learned the hard way that in Hueco Mundo, smiles were to be feared. She tensed further, wondering what he had in store for her this time.

"I wanted to see something, that is all." He reached to his side and slid his sword from his sheathe. She exhaled in shock and shut her eyes immediately even as she spun around and tried to open the door. Before she could even find the handle, firm dark hands grasped her upper arms and held them tightly. Orihime struggled against the hold to no avail. Tousen simply wrapped one arm across her shoulders and forced her eyes open with his other hand. The cold air of Hueco Mundo caused her eyes to water involuntarily as Aizen came into focus.

He smiled. "_**Shatter, Kyouka Suigetsu.**_"

* * *

The years had flown by and no sign of her nakama. Orihime had almost forgotten the reason she was being held as the days passed by relentlessly. It had been so long...so long..._so long_...since she had last seen Tatsuki-chan...Ishida-kun...Sado-kun...or...Kurosaki-kun. For five years, she resided in her new room, her only company was Aizen who always summoned her for tea with the Espada, despite their obvious annoyance. It had begun to scare her, how accustomed she was growing to everything.

After six years, she had begun to lose hope.

By the seventh year, Orihime had forgotten her old address.

Eight. She was looking forward for tea. Grimmjow's antics always brought a smile to her face.

Nine. Orihime panted as she dodged Halibel's blade. Summoning Tsubaki, she directed him towards Halibel even as she raised her sword to block.

Ten. Her once vivid memories of her former nakama had faded even more. She laughed as Lilynette shouted obscenities at Starrk, even as she helped the little Fraccion pull him off of the couch.

Fifteen. She blushed as Aizen-sama raised her hand to his lips and led her to her door.

Twenty. She worried at the appearing wrinkles, wondering if Aizen-sama would mind.

Twenty five: Orihime was confused when Aizen-sama asked her about Kurosaki Ichigo. "Who is she?"

Thirty: Orihime confidently held her hands over the Hōgyoku and summoned Ayame and Shun'o, bringing the Hōgyoku back to full power.

_Her world splintered._

* * *

Orihime gasped and sagged in the arms of Tousen who lowered her gently to the floor. Blinking wearily, she groaned as she maneuvered herself to her knees. A pale hand came into her line of sight and she sighed as she grasped Aizen-sama's hand. Jerking as her smooth unmarred hand came into view, Orihime raised her other hand to her face, feeling the unwrinkled skin.

"Aizen-sama?" Orihime gazed at him worriedly, wondering what had happened to her. Aizen-sama brought the hand he still held to his lips and kissed it softly even as Tousen slipped out of the door.

"I apologize, my dear." He murmured, moving closer to her. "It was an illusion...that world..."

Orihime shook her head in disbelief. "Then...all those years..." Still, she didn't struggle as Aizen-sama wrapped his arm around her shoulders and led her to the back of the brightly lit room where the Hōgyoku rested upon a beautiful white pedestal.

He cupped her cheek in one hand and turned her face to look at him. "I was with you the entire time. Those years are mine as well." Her eyes softened and she leaned into his hand. "Will you finish what you started, my dear?"

There was no hesitation in Orihime's sweet voice.

"Of course, Aizen-sama."

* * *

**AN: **Okay. First of all, I'll like to applogize to any anonymous readers. I didn't realize I had anon review disabled. It's been enabled now, if anyone feels like reviewing.

Next order of business: Thanks to the people who _did_ review. It really made my day. ^-^ Also, I really enjoy seeing the hits so reviews, although really really nice, aren't necessary.

Since this is only my second one-shot and I don't have a beta, please tell me if I make any mistakes, k? I wonder if anyone is seeing the pattern yet? Anyway, I also put some info on my profile if you'd like to know more about Sanguine Cage.

Last note: I plan on actually having a multi-chaptered Naruto fic out by the 31st of October, so keep a look out, ok?

**PS:** Real last note: If anyone likes the ideas of my one-shots, they're welcome to write a full fic, as long as they give me the link and a little credit. ^-^

Bai Bai!

-Nami-


	3. Sacrifice

Hello everyone. ^-^ It feels like a very long time since I last updated...I haven't really had the will to write until just now to be honest. I've had this chapter almost completed for a long time but today I finally made myself work. ^-^ I hope, for those of you still with me, that you enjoy this story. Seven chapters to go!

_Disclaimer: I do not and probably will never own Bleach. That honor belongs to the great Tite Kubo._

* * *

**"And, if possible, die with a smile" **

**3. Sacrifice**

Orihime feels his eyes on her. She clenches her hands and continues to stare down at her feet. Her limp hair hangs like a curtain. A barrier. Anything to block out his eyes, his voice. Her eyes remain fixed on the lone black king lying forlornly on its back.

"There's no need to look down, my dear," he murmurs. His cold pale hand lifts her chin, forcing her to look him in the eyes. His eyes remind her of blood. They stain her.

"Yes, Aizen-sama." She smiles sweetly.

* * *

In the beginning, when she was brought to him, she refused to answer his gentle query. The truth shone in his eyes. He could not hide it from her, that cruel light. But she couldn't hide from him either.

"Orihime-chan...Do you miss them?" His eyes laughed at her.

The second meeting—she didn't know how long after the first, time seemed to pass differently here—he asked her a different question. Again she didn't answer and again he knew.

"Orihime-chan," he began, "Do think they'll come for you?" His soft smile felt like poison.

* * *

"Orihime-chan," he always started this way, "Do you know where they are?"

* * *

"Orihime-chan," she has since grown used to the meetings and his subtle taunts, "Do you want to save them?"

Her eyes were dark against her pale, sun-deprived face and her shock made them larger. Her voice was raspy when she finally spoke.

"How?" It was the reason she came, after all. To save them.

He smiled softly and said nothing.

She finally broke. Sitting there, across from _that man_, she broke her vow. She could almost feel the silence shatter.

"How can I save them?" She loved them, all of them. If it took a deal with the strongest of all devils to save them, she would willingly sell her soul.

"Orihime-chan," she was beginning to hate the sound of her own name, " What are your limits?" His eyes bored into her own as he leaned his chin on his hand.

She sold her soul.

* * *

The days all blurred together. Everyday there would be a new room full of Arrancar to heal. Orihime was becoming more and more tired but she forced herself to continue on. Everyday their wounds became worse and worse. Everyday she rejected it all, knowing all the while that each one healed was one more soldier sent against a dear friend.

Until, finally, there was another meeting.

* * *

"Can you feel that, Orihime-chan?" He murmured. He had a gentle smile as he led her to a table—white of course—with delicately carved crystal chess pieces.

She didn't reply.

Of course she had felt it. Her flicker of her nakama's reiatsu—the sudden arrival out of nowhere to fill her with fear all over again. But she said nothing as Aizen placed a cool hand on the small of her back to push her forward. She quickened her pace and felt his hand drop. If she looked back, she knew, he would have that condescending smile firmly in place.

"Why don't we play a little game?"

She sat, hesitantly, in the smaller of the ornate chairs that faced each other across the gleaming board. Aizen sat gracefully across from her with another kind smile directed towards her.

He played white, of course, pushing forward a pawn that seemed familiar, somehow. The more Orihime looked at it, the more that niggling recognition bothered her until she finally realized what it looked like. The little crystal white pawn was an almost perfect copy of little Hinamori Momo.

Her breath caught and she looked, hesitantly, down to her own obsidian pieces. She couldn't help but feel a little sick when she registered who they looked like. Here, Yamada Hanatarou took the place of a pawn, there, Abarai Renji featured as a rook in the corner, Ishida-kun, Sado-kun and Rukia-chan all took the form various pieces on the board. Her king was a fierce Kurosaki-kun in his bankai gear. And...the queen took the form of Orihime herself, in the shinigami robes from brief stay in Seireitei.

Unsurprisingly, Aizen's took the form of various arrancar, although shinigami seemed to take the place of pawns just as often as arrancar. He was king, of course. His bishops took the forms of Tousen and Ichimaru...but it was his queen that made her shudder....It was herself.

Clad in white clothing similar to what she wore now. An intricate crown of woven lilies upon her brow. An unfamiliar expression on her tiny face.

"Are you ready?" His murmur sent a little tremor of disgust through her, but she pushed forward a miniature Matsumoto Rangiku and forced herself not to feel.

* * *

The games continued. Everyday, with a backdrop of her friends dwindling reiatsu, they played. Until, finally, almost all the pieces were gone. Orihime was surprised by how well she played but with every piece collected by Aizen felt like a small piece of _herself_ was being lost as well.

She knew what this game was for, however. There was a tacit understanding between them on exactly what the end of this game would determine. The lives of her friends depended on this game. Her own freedom depended on this game.

She had no illusions. He who had masterfully used the most powerful shinigami in soul society as his own personal pawns would be almost impossible to beat, but she would do her best.

* * *

In the end it was the queen. Orihime's king, backed into a corner, could not even defend himself. Bitter irony coursed through her veins. She didn't want to do it. The fierceness of her conviction shocked her. Truly, she did not want to do it, even for him. But in the end, her other feelings prevailed. She loved to much. Felt too strongly.

So she did it. Hand trembling minutely, she gently placed a solitary dark piece in front of her king.

She didn't bother looking up from the chessboard. If she did, she knew what she would find. A small kind smile would be playing on his lips, his eyes would be deceivingly gentle, yet somehow cruelty would radiate from his entire being.

That little piece of _herself _she had kept safe for so long, after days or maybe only hours—she couldn't tell anymore—was consumed by a devil with eyes of blood and comfort(_frighten_)ing smiles. She kept her eyes focused on that pale form as it stood facing the small dark king. She finally recognized the expression. Dark smug triumph shone through that tiny figure.

A graceful hand toppled her defenseless king.

A gentle seductive voice, smooth as silk.

A small regal white figure. _Herself_.

"Checkmate."

* * *

Their game took less time than she had thought. It was only been a day and her nakama are still far away. Still safe.

* * *

Her new—entirely white—dress clings sinfully to her every curve. A long slit runs up the skirt, showing an eyeful of her pale shapely leg while simultaneously making it easier to move in. There is no crown, but his mark shows in other ways. The purposeful gait, the false smile, the anguished eyes. She is tarnished, deep inside.

* * *

Orihime walks slowly, trying to delay the inevitable, but the room comes into view quicker than she feels it should and she lets herself in. The low murmur of subdued voices halts instantly but her eyes are drawn to the figure reclining on the ornate carved ivory throne. His eyes flash in triumph and, feeling something deep inside herself cringe, she forces her face remains impassive.

There is a smaller throne next to his. She knows what he wants. His lips curve into a _(dangerous)_smile as she glides forth, her heeled boots clicking with each slow step. The hall remains silent.

When, at last, she is settled at Aizen's side, he places his hand gently over hers, before gesturing another arrancar forward. Orihime pays no attention to the struggling figure who is dragged before them, concentrating instead on the comforting feel of her nakama's reiatsu. They are closing in.

Perhaps they will ev—she bites back a pained cry. The cool hand over her own squeezes painfully and her eyes flicker to the man—no—creature besides her. His eyes are dark despite his kind smile.

"Are you alright, my dear?" He murmurs. His hand tightens and her bones shift painfully.

She gives him a sweet smile, forcing herself to ignore the unyielding pain. "Of course, Aizen-sama."

He searches her eyes for a moment longer, and she struggles to conceal her deep hatred before his grip finally loosens and he looks ahead once more.

* * *

Finally, it happens. They have nearly reached Las Noches and she has been called before _him_ once more.

He does not appreciate weakness in his _(pawns)_followers so Orihime holds her head high as she approaches his ivory throne. The clicking of her heels against the floor nearly manages to override the sound of her racing heart but it is no longer a struggle to hide her innermost thoughts. She knows why she's there.

Aizen rests his chin on the palm of his hand as he glances over her small form. He doesn't bother to mask his actions, making certain she can see his eyes lingering on her every curve. What drives him is not sexual, she understands. It is simply his need to dominate her totally and completely.

It still frightens her.

When she stands before him, as regal as any queen, he deigns to speak.

"If," He murmurs, "You manage to make them retreat...I will let them live."

Her heart stops.

* * *

When her nakama arrive to Las Noches, she is waiting. Their shock is obvious as is the fragile hope that rises around them.

Rukia, Renji, Ishida, Chad, and...him...At once, deep inside her heart, she rejoices in their love for her and despairs for it.

"Why have you come?" Her voice is colder than ice and she sees now that fragile hope begin to crack.

"O-Orihime-chan?" Rukia's voice wavers slightly but her body is tense and prepared for all obstacles.

Almost all obstacles.

"I ask again: Why have you come?"

Unsurprisingly, it is Ishida who understands the implications first.

"Why," He begins and she can see his throat work for a moment before he continues in a quieter voice. "Why are you without a guard and...and dressed in their clothing?"

They want to deny it, but they are no longer certain. It is obviously in their faces, in their poses. Renji stands slightly in front of Rukia, his hand on Zabimaru's hilt. Rukia herself is close to unsheathing Sode no Shirayuki. Chad has shifted in a defensive stance and Ishida at his side seems ready to fight at a moment's notice. _He—_no, Kurosaki...Kurosaki already has Zangetsu in his hands, albeit pointed towards the ground.

It hurts. That lack of faith that she will have to foster.

A little laugh finds its way past her blood-red lips. A sweet smile twists until it plays on those lips as nothing more than a cruel mockery of her once warm light.

(_Forgive me._ She begs them in her heart of hearts.)

"Did you think," Orihime begins slowly, savoring every syllable, "That I was taken by force?"

They are horrified. But she presses on, desperate to extend their lives by even the smallest moment.

"Did you expect to find me—, " She stalks closer, her hips swaying seductively with each step as she advances on Kurosaki. "—crying: 'Kurosaki-kun, save me!' while locked in a tower like some cowering princess?"

She feels her lips curve into a dangerous smile as everyone seems frozen at her actions. She trails a hand across Kurosaki's collarbone, seeing his pulse jump as he finally seems resigned to her desertion.

"Don't worry," She murmurs with a wicked smile. "Aizen-sama takes _**very**_ good care of me."

Orihime withdraws her hand sharply just as the others seem to overcome their frozen disbelief. She turns her back to them and begins her slow walk back to her own rooms.

"Leave." She orders them over her shoulder. "I have no use for you."

She hopes fervently that it is enough. That her actions have kept them safe for just a little longer. When their reiatsu disappears from her senses, after hearing what seems to have been an argument behind her, her eyes burn with unshed tears. She smiles softly.

She has sold her soul to the devil.

She hopes it is enough.


End file.
